


Stories of the Second Self: Cryptic, Concealed & Confidential

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [176]
Category: Urban Fantasy - Fandom, clandestine operations - Fandom, social justice - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: Working at her grocery job, Sierra overhears customers talk about hearing a train late at night on Cincinnati's Three-C Line that hasn't run in decades. Remembering what she discovered in an abandoned rail car, Sierra thinks there's a connection. After work, the young werewolf changes into her therianthropic state to check it out. What she sees will have larger implications than she already dreaded.
Series: Alter Idem [176]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: Cryptic, Concealed & Confidential

“I heard it again last night,” someone in the next grocery isle said.  
“Garrett,” another voice replied, “The Three-C line hasn’t run since before I was born. You can’t be hearing trains in the night.  
Sierra was facing shelf stock; that is, pulling stock up to the front of the shelf, when she heard the pair talking about hearing trains. An ordinary enough conversation, that she’d have ignored it except for her prior discovery of that abandoned railcar. The smell which led her to it still induced shaking.  
Finishing the rest of her workday, Sierra became preoccupied by the thought that some phantom train was still disappearing supernatural residents of Cincinnati. As one of the few werewolves in the Reading district of the city, Sierra kept a pattern that kept people from recognizing her as a werewolf.  
Getting off work, Sierra threw that aside when heading to the employee restrooms. There, she took off her shoes and switched her shirt and put on her special denim shorts with the extra zipper in the back. Having changed her clothes, Sierra then transformed herself. The rear zipper let her growing tail through, and she cinched in the belt as body proportions shifted.  
Looking more wolf than human, Sierra exited the store and dropped down on all fours for a leisurely trot. Everybody knew about the Cleveland, Columbus & Cincinnati Rail Line. Even in the years before Alter Idem the rail didn’t run, but someone or another promised to restore the passenger line. Then, social order collapsed with the revelation of supernatural Pentacastes in the world. A two-year federal occupation followed.  
The worst news was when Columbus, Ohio had been leveled and burned to the ground by army and National Guard troops trying to root out the Gaia Cult, vampires, and militant human purist organizations. In the following couple years a new normal had settled in.  
Growing curiosity about the 3-C Line merged with how inviting the bicycle lane looked, and so Sierra picked up to a full canine gallop. She drew scowls and one hostile car horn in Reading despite clearly being in the bike lane, but the feel of a breeze against her therianthropic muzzle was worth it.  
Crossing through residential blocks, Sierra neared the old rail line that looked as unused as it had always been. However, a few scents caught her attention. She lowered her head to sniff at and around the rails. A few varieties of deodorants came up in very weak traces, as did another scent that made Sierra think of well furbished leather. She decided at that moment to stay until night and see whoever had been here would make a repeat appearance.  
Sierra also stayed in her wolf self. Only other werewolves would recognize her. Hunkering down amid overgrown wild grasses, Sierra kept her attention on what she heard and smelled. Though, it was through her paws that Sierra knew the rail line was active hours after sundown. The surface gravel was compacted and transmitted vibration easily. Sierra heard the engine after that, and dared peek through the grass to see an aged train rolling in toward the stop.  
Braking started before Sierra saw the train, but with old heavy engines it took miles to stop. The engine only hauled a few rail cars, and of those only one had lights on inside. However, lights from a couple vehicles approached. From the train car emerged a short man with light brown hair and boyish face. What surprised her was that the man was a vampire, though so too was the man coming out from the back of a suburban. By pre-Alter Idem terms, the two could not have been more different, the second man having long dreadlocks with gold caps.  
“What’s your load?” the white vampire asked in a tone and mannerism conflicting with his unassuming appearance.  
Sierra witnessed two police officers come into view.  
The black vampire wearing a light suit spoke in a light cheery voice with a hint of a Creole accent, “Just one. They seemed to be getting the message.”  
The cops struggled with a black bag of human body length and bending about where a body would. Sierra was sure it was a person, but that no putrescine assailed her nose.  
“Open Feeder?” the train riding vampire asked.  
“Active shooter this time,” The suited vampire answered, “Though, he was also suspected of Open Feeding. I never caught him doing it in Silverton, or else I’d have brought him in before.”  
“You should be more proactive outside your area,” the boyish vampire stated with a flat tone, as he made way for the cops loading the body bag.  
“I would but for professional courtesy,” the dreadlocks vampire replied, “We all have our little compromises to make. No one wants another Columbus.”  
It took everything Sierra had to not throw up right there. She expected something shady in Cincinnati, but learning of vampires turning on their own was a double-edged sword. She knew telling somebody would harm the rights of vampires as much as saying nothing.  
Instead, Sierra lay as flat as she could, and as the train started up, she covered her ears. It wasn’t so loud to be painful, but Sierra couldn’t bear knowing these dark rendezvous were routine.


End file.
